Janet Jackson: Taking Control (BBC4) was such a risible piece of hagiographic bumcrack that I suspect the BBC was paid to show it rather than shelling out to make it. In which case, it owes us all a portion of the profits.

It was ostensibly an examination of the career and significance of the youngest member of that famously famous and troublingly troubled clan, from her evolution from tiny singer (harnessed with the rest of her siblings to the deadweight of their father's ambition) to multimillion-selling solo artist. What it actually was was a chance for acolytes – who somehow managed to be dead-eyed yet fervent at the same time – to compete in a platitude-off.

"She would talk about things that really hurt her. Poverty. Racism," said one of her choreographers, in breathless admiration, "She shared that side of herself in Rhythm Nation … She was just, like, 'Back off – I'm gonna be who I am and I'm gonna speak loudly for myself!' Which was at the same time speaking loudly for women. So she really became an icon of that whole kind of feminist movement."

Songwriter notices aspects of the human condition and writes about them. Woman gets older and becomes more sure of herself. What insight, what unprecedented illumination of the creative process. On and on it rolled, therapy-speak and corporate PR-speak. No wonder so many celebrities go mad.

It was left to Jimmy Jam who, along with fellow producer Terry Lewis, was involved with much of Jackson's best work, to give some fleeting insight into the making of her music, reasons for its popularity, and her career longevity – though it was never long before we cut back to talking heads marking supposedly seminal songs with observations such as: "It was Janet, evolving into another Janet" and "These were her moments of absolute self-definition." If it was a DVD extra, you'd have felt robbed. As it is, I shall away and find my calculator. We are all surely owed something.